


Materia

by SwordofRebecca



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-10
Updated: 2011-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 16:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordofRebecca/pseuds/SwordofRebecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Notes: This set of ficlets came from prompts given at the Dreamwidth community fic_promptly.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Materia

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This set of ficlets came from prompts given at the Dreamwidth community fic_promptly.

Notes: This set of ficlets came from prompts given at the Dreamwidth community fic_promptly.

* * *

Every medal Elena ever earned didn't come with any sort of ceremony. Instead, they'd be dropped in her messenger box as if they were letters rather than awards. Speaking of letters, she'd get one from whoever issued the medal, and it included her name spelled wrong and some spiel that meant nothing. Sometimes, she'd get a certificate. She'd never get a ceremony.

She knew that most people were bothered by how they received their awards, but Elena didn't care at all. Ceremonies cost money, and attracted way too much attention. Besides, Award Ceremonies didn't include wonderful things like food and alcohol. Name spelled wrong? So what? It was letter that meant nothing. How she got it? Private. What's wrong with that? Some other workers commented that the medals weren't even real gold? So what? They looked gold, and that's what mattered.

Elena never wore her medals, but those sorts of medals weren't meant to be worn, they were meant to be collected. Besides, She was worth each and every one of her medals. She wouldn't trade them for the world.

* * *

Tifa drank alone in the middle of the Midgar night. Cloud left in the morning for courier duty, and Barret left for daughter duty. Tifa remained behind for bar duty. No one ever asked her if she ever felt lonely, but she'd be sure to answer 'no' in case anyone ever asked.

She enjoyed company most of time, but even Tifa needed some alone time. Now that she had it, she drank in darkness with nothing but the moonlight to illuminate the room. She didn't even have the TV on because she wanted some peace. Tifa seldom had peace, so whenever she did, she made sure to indulge in it as much as possible.

* * *

People leave eventually. The bar is closed, and the night hangs high in the sky. What a rhyme, Cloud thinks and he is thankful that no one reads his mind. He sits between Tifa and Barret drinking whatever doesn't kill him. Tastes like star anise, strong, tasty, and better than what other bars served. The three are silent because they don't need to say anything. They do enough talking as it is. Only the Midgar night speaks and it doesn't say anything the three don't already hear. Not even the Turks are a bother this late at night. God doesn't stay up this late at night.

They do, though, because this is the only time they have any real peace. They don't have to fight. All they have to do is watch some late night television and nod to the talking heads. Cloud looks at his friends every once in awhile. Tifa smiles, and so does Barret because they've been friends for quite some time. Tifa is closer and Cloud doesn't mind they're more than best friends. They've been that way for quite some time too.

Cloud wishes that these moments would last forever, but he realizes that as long they're in someone's memories, forever would start tonight.

* * *

"You want some coffee?" Rufus asked Reeve when the sun rose in the Midgar Sky. The two executives spent most of the night trying to figure out ways to work on Midgar, as usual.

No one ever thought that the president of Shin-Ra would even think of asking a "subordinate" such a question, much less actually voice it, but Rufus did. In fact, he'd been doing so for quite some time.

"I'd love some," Reeve answered from a mountain of blueprints and mechanical toys.

"The usual?"

"Black as the night, stronger than death, sweeter than love, and hot as hell!"

"No sugar with that coffee?" Rufus always asked that question. He smiled every time he did.

"None at all."

"Gotcha!" Rufus walked out of the door. The things he did for that man, but he never minded. Not one bit.


End file.
